


Stars I Shall Find

by golfdadscoups



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Original Character(s), War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golfdadscoups/pseuds/golfdadscoups
Summary: Jeonghan sleeps through the apocalypse.





	1. I dream of you, to wake; would that I might

 

The ceiling looks bleak, light is off, its wood. The dorms never had wooden ceilings. There's a damp cloth on his forehead, he reaches up gingerly to touch it, but his arm feels like it's 60 pounds heavier. He doesn't move. The blanket on his body is like a sheet of iron. 

His lungs feel like they're working for the first time ever, breaths coming out in uneven gasps like a fucking infant being held upside down. The wooden ceiling looks so wrong. Where is everyone? He tries to recall their names but only faces just barely flash in his mind. 12 total. 

He wiggles his toes but the time it takes for the signal to come off his brain into neurons shooting it off into dendrites into other neurons until it reaches the nerves in his foot is disturbingly long. 

Who knows how much time passes? He wiggles his toes until he's positive his brain isn't malfunctioning. 

 

Then there's a faint sound of footsteps and voices. It all feels like they're underwater with plugged ears. He blinks a few more times, each movement is still slow. 

A voice comes closer and closer and then there's a click of a door opening. 

His eyes stay on the wooden ceiling. If blinking takes that much effort, turning your head might as well be a hike up Mount Everest. 

 

Then there's laughter he could recognize no matter what situation. 

 

Lee Chan. 

 

“Oh.” The laughter abruptly stops. 

 

The footsteps leave. And more ocean voices come from outside. 

A glass drops. Someone yells. Or at least that's what it sounds like. His memory dings a little, neurons connecting laggardly. He's heard all those voices before. But not with proper clarity that he can remember. 

 

Footsteps come back inside, a figure draws closer holding a lantern. The lantern gets set on the bedside and it fucking stings his eyes. 

Then Chans leaning over him with the most apprehensive expression he's ever seen. 

 

“Hyung?” Hes only a few inches away but Chans voice still sounds like he's hearing it while drowning in the Pacific. 

 

He blinks. 

 

“Jeonghan-hyung?” 

 

It sounds so weird coming from his mouth. Like when you're pirating a movie and it's lagging so the sound doesn't match what's happening on screen. The neurons connect a little quicker this time and Jeonghan remembers a little bit. Seungcheol, Jisoo, Jun, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Jihoon, Seokmin, Mingyu, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan. The last time he was blinking and his lungs were working properly, he was in the van with Wonwoo, Seokmin, Chan, and Jun. Now there's just a wooden ceiling and the vague view of Chans face. 

 

Chan removes the cloth off Jeonghans head, removes the blanket off his body, probably noticing how Jeonghans heaving. 

 

Jeonghan wants to say something but that comes hard. The only sound he's able to produce is a small whine in his throat.

 

“Are you hurt?” Chans eyes widen, voice quivering. 

 

 _No, it's just hard to breathe and I can't move_. Jeonghan blinks. 

 

The door clicks open again and Jeonghans left to stare at the wooden ceiling as Chan converses with another voice. 

 

Seungcheol. 

 

“N-no, I just came in to re-soak the towel and his eyes were open.” Chans voice has that prepubescent crackle to it. 

 

Then Seungcheol mumbles something that Jeonghan can't understand. 

 

And then Jeonghans vision starts to go black. 


	2. I find no peace, and all my war is done

What follows, Jeonghan can only describe in flashes. Sometimes when he opens his eyes, Vernon is there changing the cloth on his forehead or adjusting his sheets, sometimes he's is in there talking to him, about nothing in particular, just observations in passing, “it was windy today”, “we had fish for dinner”, all that. One time he opened his eyes and Jun was edging his pants off carefully, then wiping him down from crotch to upper thigh, and slipping another pair on. The worst part about that for Jeonghan was not having to depend on someone else to change his clothes, or that he might've pissed himself, but that he couldn't feel a single thing. It was nerve wracking, being completely numb. He could only wiggle his toes.

 

He's made progress from that, however. He can cough, sigh, and circle his wrists. He still has difficulty breathing. Sometimes, Seungkwan will drop by and prop him up and feed him some gross grainy soup. It dribbles down Jeonghans chin and he can hold his breath long enough for each spoonful to go down the right tube. Even if he can only stare in one direction, he's grateful Seungkwan takes the time to smile at him and wipe his mouth. Curiously, he never says anything. In contrast, Jihoon sings him awake softly, while he's opening the window or arranging the boxes against the walls. Wonwoo comes by once. At least, Jeonghans only seen him once. He reads him a few excerpts from _The Seventh Day_ by Yu Hua.

He hears a voice with a metallic taste and an in gliding accent that he knows belongs to Vernon yelling loudly outside the door once. No voice replies however, only a quick smack and a shriek. He doesn't know what to think of it.

Mingyu comes by frequently, often with a book laid between his forearm and elbow. The first few days he just asks Jeonghan to follow his finger as he moves it around Jeonghans field of vision. Then he begins to force Jeonghan to sit upright, moving his arms and legs even though Jeonghan can barely feel it.

One time, he says “tell me when you feel it” and pinches Jeonghans cheek until he jolts from the sudden pain. Mingyus visits feel like they're purely business up until when he smiles and commends Jeonghan on making good progress. Jeonghan smiles back. Something he hadn't been able to do before his sessions with Mingyu.

However, Jeonghan sees Chan most often. Or senses him. His feet against Jeonghans toes, his hand entwined in Jeonghans fingers. Sometimes he’ll hear snoring and a hand on his chest, which reverts him back to gasping breaths and sharp pain in his chest. Chan always jolts awake at that, mumbling apologies. It's his voice that gives it away when he's not in Jeonghans narrow field of vision.

 

“I’m really glad you're back, hyung.” His voice is always just above a whisper, but the clearest in Jeonghans seawater ears. “Everyone's missed you so much. We all take turns being with you so that you're not alone. Well, almost all of us.” Jeonghans heart always thumps a little harder. “Whenever you're ready to get up, we’ll all be there for you.”

 

Jeonghan doesn't know who “all” is. He can only recall the people he's seen in this state. All 12 names still stick but he's put faces to only about half of them. He can barely form the image of his parents, his sister, the managers, the stylists, anyone else.

 

“It doesn't matter, anyways.” Chans voice is uncharacteristically disdained that time. “We haven't heard from anyone. Except Minghao-hyung. He left to see his mom but he hasn't come back since. I don't really know what's happened to him.”

 

Chan tells him a mantle plume erupted seemingly out of nowhere on the coast ofIncheon. One of those natural disaster things as a result of global warming. Which would've been dealt with decently but with the current disarray of the government over dethroning President Park, there was a political meltdown. In the downward spiral, trade was closed and as a result the economy crashed, and disagreements in the UN broke out over how to help the country, there was some sort of failed relief effort, then riots, then riot control, then fiercer riots. Then suddenly the military separated from the government and it was civil war. North Korea with help from Russia took the opportunity to invade the South in its moment of vulnerability, international nuclear war began and when it became too dangerous for civilians to stay in their basements, they were ushered into emergency bunkers. Not everyone fit, they were tight, cramped, they had to sleep standing up for the first few days until disease that otherwise would have posed no threat, but in these tight spaces was a death sentence, broke out. People were quarantined, even killed in masses, but with bombs and nuclear war raining down on them from above, the bunkers could only hold out so much.

They tried to stay together, the 13 of them. But 13 is a big number. They were apparently ushered against their will into vans that they were told would take them to the only military stronghold in the South left; Busan. But they were lied to. Their particular van crashed when Seokmin caused a commotion upon finding out the soldiers riding with them were planning on killing them and that's where they half lost Jeonghan. The people in other vans were dropped off instead and were told the bunkers were useless by then, they were as good as dead anywhere and that the stronghold in Seoul had already been taken over by the government and thats exactly what they planned on doing in Busan too. Seungcheols barking orders somehow got half of them together and they found this run down little 3 bedroom house in the middle of the wreckage. Jihoon struck a deal and trade with gangs nearby to leave them alone, Chan wouldn't specify what that deal was, and it's been three months up until now. Jeongan remembers the vague feelings of terror, fear of the unknown, which all started with one fleeting moment when they were watching the news in the dorm with baited breath about the couped staged outside the American embassy in Seoul and Jeonghan had instinctively reached out to grab Seungcheols hand when there was a blast just down the street from them. His next memory is of Chan waking up screaming a nightmare away. He remembers stroking his hair until he fell back asleep against Jeonghans chest while they lay on the grey dirty concrete, the fluorescent lights above them flickering as the earth shook around them, people murmured terrible things, and their bubble of 13 only huddled closer together.

 

Jeonghan graduates to the point of being able to wake up when someone calls his name, swallowing, nodding or shaking his head, and speaking a little. His ears don't feel like they're clogged with water anymore but arms and legs still feel like someone strapped weights to him but hey, at least he can feel them now.

The group graduates to having more than one person with him at a time.

 

Vernon is brushing the knots out of Jeonghans hair with a broken comb, being excessively gentle even though Jeonghan insisted he could barely feel it. Seungkwan is here too, absently stirring a bowl of that grainy soup everyone hates.

It's quiet, peaceful. The curtain is parted to reveal wrecked buildings, in between their debris and fallen roofs, mild sunlight shines through and illuminates the dust floating in the room. This room is a storage room, Jeonghan learned. They keep bullets and clothing and oil and first aid in here alongside the lumpy makeshift mattress that has been Jeonghans refuge for the past few months. It's bare with the lack of furniture but homey with the loads of blankets piled everywhere.

 

A door slams open, there's heavy booted footsteps and jostling, and at first Jeonghan would've had a panic attack, but now he simply turns his head and smiles as Jun opens the door to his room.

 

Hes sweaty, hair ruffled, a faint bruise is forming where the hollow of his eye and his cheekbone meet.  He smiles breathlessly, handsomely, unstrapping the leather buckle on his upper thigh, rubbing over the clothed area absently as he limps to the first aid box, kneeling and digging through it. Jeonghan notices the blood staining his side.

 

_Where were you?_ He's about to ask but Vernon  beats him to it.

 

“How'd it go?” Hes trying to hide his nervousness.

 

“Seungcheol-hyung needs stitches.”

 

Seungcheols the only one who Jeonghan knows is here that hasn't come to see him since that very first time.

 

“What happened?  Jeonghan asks.

 

“Got knifed in the arm, but that's all.” Jun shrugs. “Don't worry, hyung.”

 

_What was he doing that got him knifed?_ Jeonghan knows there's some kind of black market they go to for trading phone parts or car parts or weapons, and there's a government sanction that hands out quotas of grains that they use to make that revolting soup, Jihoons deal with nearby gangs brings them jewels to sell. This is all new however. Stitches.

 

“Did he win?” Vernon asks as he picks Jeonghans hair out of the comb.

 

“Just barely.” Jun says. “They gave him one of the biggest players there just for shits and giggles.”

 

“What did he get?

 

“Canned beef.” Juns voice quivers a little bit. Seungkwans beam is blinding. “And some...meds to help Jeonghan hyung get better faster.”

 

“Has he gone before?” Jeonghan asks. It's the longest sentence he's spoken so far.

 

“Only twice.” Jun tosses a roll of thread with a fine metal hook at the end between his hands. “The first few days after we found this place. They were auctioning supplies from that run down hospital in Yongsan that time. It was before aide came in. He scored a nasogastric tube for you.” Jun clicks his tongue. “Then once when Chan got pneumonia and he needed antibiotics.”

 

“What..does he do?”

 

“Dog fights. The government elite let people fight for care packages from other countries because there's not enough for everyone.” Jun is now digging through a box of miscellaneous items. “They used to hold the fights before but that was more of an entertainment thing, I guess. Now their logic is ‘natural selection’. Only the fit should be able to advance.”

 

Vernon scoffs. “As if.”

 

“Dog fights.” Jeonghan repeats. The phrase feels uncomfortable on his tongue.

 

“Not actual dogs, that's too cruel. It's like some bizarre Hunger Games shit.” Vernon continues sarcastically. “Two people fight until one is killed by the other. And the winner get aide as a reward.”

 

Until one is killed. The neurons sharply slow down.

 

“And Seungcheol-” Jeonghan voice doesn't come out. Anger. He hasn't felt it this violently in a while. His vocal chords aren't used to connecting how they would if he were to yell

 

Vernons hands come to rest on Jeonghans shoulders. He didn't realize he was shaking.

 

“Hyung, you shouldn't have told him.”

 

“He was bound to find out.”

 

“I wanna see him.” Jeonghans voice comes out raw.

 

It's not the first time he's voiced this request.  

 

“He's not badly hurt.” Jun tells Jeonghan, pulling out a small tube of bikini numbing spray.

 

No one ever feels obliged to fulfill his request.

 

“You don't even know how to give stitches.” Jeonghan spits with as much rage as his wispy vocal chords will let him.

 

That proves to be too much and Jeonghan erupts into a coughing fit. Vernon thumps his back gently as Seungkwan reaches for the glass of water on the side table. Once Jeonghan has coughed the anger out of his system and shakily gulped down some water, he blinks, trying to unblur his vision, eyes landing on the numbing spray in Juns hand. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.

 

Jun turns it in his hands upon noticing Jeonghan. “Super lucky that we found this place.”

 

“The woman who lived here before us was a training to be a doctor or something.” Vernon explains. “Either she adhered strictly to societal expectations of women or she was just really hairy and had a complex about it. She had like tubs full wax strips and numbing spray and hair bleach and exactly 6 tweezers.”

 

Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

 

“So Mingyu hyung-”

 

“So Mingyu hyung took it upon himself to study her textbooks and notes to the best of his ability and now he's patiently waiting for Jun to arrive with the surgical sutures.” Mingyu is in the doorway, holding a pair of latex gloves in his hands, he's annoyed. “Hyung already does enough going to these damn dog fights for us and living. Do you want him to bleed to death when he's safe at home instead?”

 

“I thought he'd be fine.” Jun is already walking to the door.

 

“Didn't realize Seungcheol hyung was suddenly superhuman.”

 

“Hilarious, Mingyu. I mean it.”

 

The door closes.

 

Jeonghan suddenly has a whole new set of questions but when he opens his mouth to speak, nothing comes out.


	3. alastor, or the spirit of solitude

Jeonghan graduates to walking. Barely. The first time, he's wobbling like badly made jello. Mingyu is essentially supporting most of his weight as he instructs him to drag one foot over the other. They make it 6 steps before Jeonghan groans that he's about to pass out and Mingyu carries him back to bed.

It's not much but it's enough for Jihoon to sneak some fresh fruit from one of the gangs and bring it home to celebrate.

That night, Seungcheol has conveniently taken Vernon, Mingyu, and Jun out to raid nearby houses for supplies. Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Chan are all stationed either on the floor or on Jeonghans bed. Laughing, making conversation, as they pass a bowl of strawberries around, they look the happiest Jeonghans ever seen them. Who knew a small feat like taking a few steps would have brought this on. Apparently the majority of the food in the surrounding areas was poisoned by nuclear radiation during the bomb blasts so this is a real treat.

 

Jeonghan sighs, absently rolling a grape between his fingers before popping it in his mouth. He chews awkwardly, his jaw muscles and teeth unfamiliar with the movement. Mingyu kept him on a strictly grainy soup diet until just a few days ago. Everyone is engrossed in some story Chan is telling about a bobcat he encountered on the way to the car park the other day and even though the room is 5 people strong, Jeonghan can't help but notice how empty it feels without everyone. He slides another grape between his fingers.

 

“Seventeen shines best when all 13 members are on stage.”

 

Soonyoung said that once. A long time ago, it feels like.

 

Jeonghan, since he was able to talk, has asked so many questions. What is that for? What about that hole in the roof? How did this happen? How did that get there? Where are you going? What's for dinner? Grainy soup again? All that. But any questions about the missing members die in his throat like slaughtered roadkill.

If Seungcheol, Jun, Wonwoo, Jihoon, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan are here, then Joshua, Soonyoung, Minghao, and Seokmin are not here.

If he closes his eyes, he can clearly see their faces. But Jeonghan doesn't have a single clue what happened to them. He lies awake at night for hours sometimes, so curious, so painfully curious, but nothing comes out.

It's almost like he physically is unable to speak, like someone cut his tongue out and reached inside his throat and took his voice too.

 

Maybe he doesn't want to know.

 

Then a rock flies through the window, breaking glass, splattering it everywhere and everyone springs to their feet, little moment of bliss pierced and the havoc outside starts peeking in through the rips. Wonwoo immediately goes to the window, peering outside, half hiding behind the wall. Wonwoo always been skinny but Jeonghan can't help but notice how absolutely skeletal he looks right now.

 

Jihoon picks up the rock. Jeonghan looks closely at it. There's a note attached. Jihoon notices it too.

 

“Next time you stay.” He reads aloud.

 

“What does that mean?” Jeonghan asks.  

 

“Oh nothing. It's just from the guys I took the fruit from. Real friendly message.” Jihoon assures with a snarky smile, crumpling the note in his hands.

 

“I'm gonna go out and make sure the coast is clear.” Wonwoo declares, unconvinced from the silence surrounding the window. He takes his flip knife out of his back pocket.

 

“I'll come with you.” Jihoon offers.

 

“No. I think you should stay inside.” Wonwoo says warily. He turns to Seungkwan instead who doesn't even have to be told, already springing to his feet and following him out the door.

 

“What was that all about?” Jeonghan doesn't realize the grape he was holding between his fingers has been squished to smush.

 

Mingyu will be ecstatic to know he's gotten strong enough to do that.

 

“Empty threats.” Jihoon shrugs and heads out of the room, mumbling about getting a broom, tossing the rock between his hands with a frown.

 

Chan offers Jeonghan a strawberry with a small smile. Jeonghan shakes his head, suddenly nauseous.

Chan pops the strawberry in his mouth, chewing slowly, swallowing like it's glass or something.

 

There's rustling outside that immediately perks everyone's ears.

 

“It's just us, don't worry.” Wonwoos quiet voice floats to them.

 

They both relax as Jihoon comes back with a dust pan and broom. A minute passes of silence and Wonwoo and Seungkwans rustling and the sweep of bristles on hardwood and Chan scarfing down strawberries like they're his only solace. Jeonghan wipes his grape remains on his shirt, absently sucking the juices off his fingers.

 

“Clear.” Wonwoo says. “We’re coming back in.”

 

“Welp, good thing we’re safe.” Jeonghan attempts to be jolly.

 

The mood was so good before that stupid rock flew through the window. Jihoon sets the broom against the wall, taking the pan out of the room to throw away the glass shards. Wonwoo and Seungkwan come back and Jeonghan let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. Seungkwan looks visibly shaken.

 

“What's up?” Jeonghan asks.

 

Seungkwan shakes his head and sits down on the floor, gladly taking a cherry from the bowl on the ground.

 

Jeonghan still doesn't have the guts to ask why Seungkwan doesn't speak. It was the oddest thing in the world, his first encounter with Seungkwan. He was ready to be greeted by a loud, musical, almost assaulting voice but instead he got nothing. Just a gushing smile and a tight hug and tears in his eyes and Seungkwan looked so ready to say something, looked like he was about to burst into a song, but Vernon did the singing for him.

 

“We’re so glad you're back, hyung.”

 

With Vernon out raiding or whatever, Seungkwan seems quieter than usual.

 

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Wonwoo sits on the bed, taking the bowl of grapes from Jeonghan.

 

Jihoon who had quietly slipped in behind them, leans against the wall by the broom, shoulders visibly relaxing.

 

“Why does Seungkwan look so scared?” Jeonghans developed a habit where he asks questions until he's sure he's gotten an answer.

 

To him, it feels like the members are unsure whether they should be answering him at all. Jeonghan doesn't like it. He tried to understand why they might withhold information from him, maybe because he's weak from being in a coma so the answer might throw him right back into one, maybe because they've done things they don't want him to know, maybe because they don't want to think about it themselves. Doesn't mean Jeonghan won't ask. He takes all the information he does get, piecing it together into a singular image to try and understand the world he's suddenly been thrust into, surrounded by people he knows, and yet at the same time, does not. It's lonely.

 

“We saw a dead body.” Wonwoo admits. “A little farther away but it caught in his flashlight.”

 

Seungkwan keeps his head down. The cherries must look fascinating.

 

“He doesn't like seeing blood.” Chan mumbles.

 

“None of us do, except Mingyu.” Jihoon jokes.

 

“It's almost like he's a luna- _tick_.” Wonwoo says gleefully, chewing on a grape. “Get it? Because ticks like blood and Mingyu-”

 

“You're going to hell for that one.” Jihoon deadpans, arms folded.

 

Jeonghan laughs and even Seungkwan cracks a small smile.

 

“We’re already in hell.” Chan says.

 

As the pause that follows increases so does the level of tension in the room. Jeonghan adds that little piece to his picture. Hell.

 

“Well, aren't you a pessimist?” Everyone can tell Wonwoos setting up another stupid blood pun. “Your blood type must be _B negative_.”

 

Jihoon grabs the broom, threateningly waving it in Wonwoo direction, Jeonghan reaches for the pillow next to him, making to hit Wonwoo with it but the pillow is kinda heavy and it just falls from Jeonghans limp arms onto his lap. Wonwoo breaks out into a chortle, his deep voice resonating in everyone's chests. Seungkwans shoulders shake as he laughs a little harder. It could be the cutest thing in the world. The way his eyes curve into little crescents, nose scrunching, whole body vibrating with good vibes, but not a sound escapes him.

 

Jeonghan ruffles Chans hair with a small giggle, trying to include him. Chan gives him a half hearted smile in return. Jeonghans mind stays on Wonwoos words. Not his puns. Before that. _Dead body_ is oddly vague and specific at the same time. His question stays in his throat and he makes motion for the bottle of water on his side table. Chan hands it to him, unscrewing the lid. Jeonghan gulps it down shakily but it does nothing to clear his throat or chest.

 

Dead body.

 

The lock on the front door clicks and familiar footsteps make their way to the room. Seungkwan perks up.

 

“We got your IV~” Jun singsongs, strutting in with a backpack in his arms, the top flap open to show off bags of clear liquid.

 

“My IV?” Jeonghan asks.

 

“Tell him, Doctor man.” Jun elbows Mingyu who is shedding straps off his elbows lethargically.

 

“Yeah.” Mingyu starts, taking off his jacket. “You've had a fever since you came out of your coma. And your blood pressure indicated clear infection.”

 

Vernon follows then inside and sits on the floor next to Seungkwan with a concerned smile. Jeonghan watches them, absently pressing his fingers together as they lock arms.  

 

“Hyung, pay attention.” Mingyu chides.

 

“Fever, right.” Jeonghan nods attentively.

 

“You probably don't remember being hooked to the dextrose and saline when you could only lie down. I already expected some kind of bacterial infection at that point, since comas just slow everything down, making you more vulnerable.” Mingyu digs a thick pamphlet out of his pocket, flipping through the pages. “I was hoping with some intake of the antibiotics your condition would improve on its own but clearly you're still weak. Your pee seemed normal, though.”

 

“My pee?” Jeonghans face turns red. Since when has Mingyu been analyzing his pee? _Without telling him._

 

“Yes, hyung. Your pee. Just a small presence of what I'm assuming are white blood cells.” Mingyu gives him a look clearly indicating that the procedure is just as uncomfortable for him. “At least they look like the white blood cells in the book.”

 

“How...how do you know that?”

 

“Stole a microscope from that hospital in Yongsan.” Mingyu peels off his knee pads and straightens up. “I don't think it's UTI since you've been taking fluoroquinolone for a while and you have a penis.” He mumbles, finger sliding down a page. “Most likely, it's just pneumonia since Chan had it recently. But I wouldn't rule out the possibility of a kidney infection even though you aren't showing any symptoms besides fever and fatigue. Unless you're having extreme abdominal pain. Are you?”

 

“N-no..”

 

“I love it when you talk medical.” Jun jabs, setting the bag carefully on the floor.

 

“Your shit is a little runny.” Mingyu mumbles more to himself. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”

 

Jeonghan blinks, trying to process the information, trying to ignore the fact that _Mingyu_ of all people is examining his _excreta_ and thinks about it _regularly_. Jihoon hides a chuckle behind his hand.

 

“O-okay...so?”

 

“So I went on a whim and while we were out raiding for the regular stuff, I snagged some IV with 10% dextrose and the appropriate electrolytes and stuff.” Mingyu shrugs, putting the pamphlet back in his back pocket. “I don't know if it’ll cure you completely but we’re almost out of antibiotics and I'm hoping this will keep your body fluids stable until your anabolism reconstructs and hopefully your body will be able to fight some of the infection and fever on its own. Of course, this is just me making an educated guess on why your immune system is being so slow to recover whether it should even have to at all.”

 

“S-so…?” Jeonghans eyebrows scrunch, trying to figure out if they've arrived at some sort of conclusion or if Mingyu is going to tell him more. “If it doesn't work…?”

 

“Then we’ll take you off the IV.” Mingyu kneels down and starts untying his boot laces. “What I can do is very limited.”

 

“Will I, like, die or something?”

 

“No, I wouldn't try anything that risky. Just up the carbs and sweets for now.” He shakes his head, slipping his feet out. “Stay warm.”

 

“What if...you're wrong?” There's a collective nervous inhale in the room.

 

“We’ll fight that battle if we get to it.” Mingyu gives him a tired smile, still kneeling on the floor like the weight of his words is preventing him from getting up.

 

Jeonghan figures putting his life in the hands of pseudo ER nurse is better than nothing. That inhale doesn't come out though.

 

“Have some cherries.” Vernon sticks the bowl out towards the bed.

 

“No. No more sharing with Jeonghan-hyung. No more getting too close.” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, taking one for himself. “I don't want it spreading.”

 

Vernon takes the bowl back.

 

“Yes Mr. Doctor man.” Jeonghan salutes although he's not thrilled to hear that.

 

“I'll hook you up before bed.” Mingyu says and gets up finally, sitting next to Jeonghan. “And we’ll...see from there.”

 

“Cool.”

 

What if the IV doesn't work? Then what? Doesn't really matter, does it? He’ll just die. It’ll be one less person for the group to worry about. It's a wonder they didn't just leave him in the streets after Jeonghan slipped. Jeonghan wouldn't mind that. He's still not used to...all this. The unexplained scars on everyone's bodies, the sirens that go off in the middle of the night, the dull thuds that sound so far away yet so close that take even the calmer members by surprise, the arguments that happen outside his door that have become more frequent as the days pass. There was a time when Jeonghan would wake up at 6:45 am to shut off Seungcheols alarm and then Joshua's alarm at 6:50 am before his own alarm went off at 7 am, and he'd make a round through the dorm and turn all the lights on and the members would all groan for 5 more minutes while Jeonghan went back to his own bed to lie down and then they'd have ramen for breakfast or something while someone's Spotify playlist would play over the airplay attached to their TV.

 

Jun yawns, stretching his arms over his head. His action triggers an almost immediate yawn from Chan. Must be pretty late.

 

“It's pretty late.” Jeonghan parrots his thoughts out loud. “You guys should get some rest.”

 

“I call night duty.” Jihoon says.

 

“Fuck, man. It's all yours.” Jun says. “Who willingly gives up sleep?”

 

“Jihoon, someone called you a night owl.” Wonwoo says quickly.

 

“Who?” Jihoon blindly takes bait, only exploding in anger when Wonwoo cackles so hard he has to hold onto Seungkwan for leverage. “Jesus Christ, Wonwoo!”

 

Jeonghan cracks a chuckle too. Everything's changed but simultaneously, a lot is the same.

Jihoon was always the most productive during nighttime. He claimed the greatest harmonies would always come to him after 2 am. That was quite a sacrifice to make for a harmony considering their grueling day schedule. The schedule these days must be just as grueling in a different way. Jeonghan doesn't know why Jihoon chooses to stay up later now.

People file out slowly. Chan leaves a kiss on Jeonghans forehead.

 

“Chan what did I _just_ say?” Mingyu says aggravated.

 

“Sorry, hyung. I forgot.” Chan chirps.

 

It feels out of place, unbecoming of his suddenly quiet character upon the ‘hell’ comment, but Jeonghan accepts it nonetheless, patting Chans back as he turns to go. It's the little things that probably make everything feel not-so-hellish.

 

Then it's just Mingyu and his latex glove clad hands hovering over Jeonghans arm a little nervously. The IV bag is already hanging from a bent nail on the wall, the proper tubes hooked and connected to the opening, roller clamp shut.

 

“Are you gonna do it?” Jeonghan fades out.

 

“I wanna get it right.” Mingyu says, probing Jeonghans bruised arm, (bruised from the last time Mingyu had attempted to hook him up) making sure he's got the vein for sure this time.  

 

“Okay.” Jeonghan mumbles and goes to stare at the ceiling, never having been a fan of watching needles pass through skin.

It's a dull sting and the fact that he can feel such a small prick alone instills joy in him. His nerves are completely back, at least.

 

“Fuck.” Mingyu mutters and takes the needle out.

 

Jeonghan sighs and stills himself. This might take a while. Mingyu tries again, exactly 4 times. He's moved onto Jeonghans other arm when he finally gets it.

He closes his eyes as Mingyu pulls out the needle, leaving the catheter inserted and undoing the tourniquet, and finally opening the clamp to give Jeonghans body much needed electrolytes. Jeonghan clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to bring some feeling back into his arms.

 

“Don't do that.” Mingyu tells him and goes to tape the catheter in place.

 

Jeonghan leaves his arms limp on his sides and relaxes into the pillow.

 

“Hey.” He starts. “If you can't do anything about the pneumonia, what happens?”

 

“Your lungs get inflamed.” Mingyu adjusts the opening of the bag attached to the tube, then turns to collect the plastic wrapping he laid on the floor.

 

“Then what?”

 

“You die.” Mingyu sounds like a different person with his back turned to Jeonghan, carefully handling the drained saline in the wrapping.

 

Jeonghan expects himself to be shocked or upset but nothing. He's always had a knack for turning off his emotions under pressure. He cracks a smile.

 

“How's Seungcheol?”

 

“He's fine.” It sounds like Mingyus trying to convince himself of that than actually inform Jeonghan as he sets the plastic on the side table.

 

“Why didn't he come in for the fruit?”

 

“He said he was tired and wanted to sleep.”

 

“I wanna see him.”

 

“No one’s stopping you.”

 

“Except my inability to walk on my own.”

 

Mingyu snorts, stripping off his gloves and dumping them in the trash.

 

“Have a good night, hyung.”

 

Jeonghans had average nights since he got here, he's had less than mediocre nights, he's had terrifying nights, but he hasn't had a good night yet. 


End file.
